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I don't like to make games anymore. Here's why.
I used to be a game developer. I say I used to, I never released anything. I had hundreds of projects which I never finished, but nothing ever got released. There was this one project though, that came so close to completion. It was an RPG Maker title, nothing too special, but then I wasn't that creative. It basically followed the basic plot of waking up in a strange house, and traversing a dreamworld in order to escape. I was happy with it. One day, I was trying to test out something. In the map editor, everything looked fine. But when I ran a playtest, I saw something odd. >Incoming message from kravekrunch. >kravekrunch: Very funny. >Inferno: what? >kravekrunch: I did go to the Refuge, and I saw that funny little prank. >Inferno: dude whatever youre shoegazing on, i want it. i havent worked on the refuge in ages >kravekrunch: We're the only ones on the project Jack, and it wasn't me. >Inferno: srsly dude, you know ive been on the mlabs for about a month now >kravekrunch: Yeah, sure. I didn't actually check it yet, so I'll get back to you. >Inferno: ?? >kravekrunch has logged off. I never added that door. And neither did Inferno. So who did? I should've just deleted it right then. But of course I had to check it out. A black room. Nothing special. Wait, not a black room. Just black. I wandered aimlessly in frustration, until I punched my mouse. And then I realized. It wasn't just black, it was a firstperson camera. Which never existed in RPG Maker. After a while, I found another door. A sudden wave of terror ran down my spine. Something felt wrong. A voice was telling me I should get the hell out. I just ignored it. That was the biggest mistake of my life. Another black room. This time, it wasn't empty. There was a chair. "Screw this." I said, and shut down. I'd had enough, it was late, and I was tired anyway. That night, I had a dream. I don't know how I remember it, but I do. I was in that same damn room. Same damn chair. But this time, I wasn't alone. Hundreds of shadowy figures stood against the walls. If I looked closely enough, I could begin to recognize them. And realize who they were. And realize what it is I've been running from this whole time. I never was happy. I was alone most of my 24 years of age. Everyone who ever wanted to know me, I'd always scared them off, or let them down. Even my closest friend was driven away by me. I could never do anything right. There was a coil of twisted metal by the chair, taking the form of a noose. I sat down and tied it around my neck. The pain felt good. That was when I woke up. I tried to forget about it, but I can't. Because no matter what, I can still hear those whispers. And I still keep seeing a certain figure behind me. Just out of view, sometimes. Sometimes. I'm sorry, Silver. I'm sorry for everything I've done to you. It's late, nobody is around, and I'm very tired. Goodbye. DeltaMeridian (talk) 19:13, January 13, 2020 (UTC) Category:Finished Category:Dark Category:Sad Category:Strange Category:Plot Twists